


Just Another Night

by ruuinxs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M, What even is this???, heartbroken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruuinxs/pseuds/ruuinxs
Summary: Oikawa is heartbroken, and thinks he should repay Hajime once and for all.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Just Another Night

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT IS THIS- i don’t know- just- DONT asKkKkK

The pitter-patter of the rain was all Oikawa could hear as he leaned his hefty physique against the slim frame of a street light pole. He didn’t even discern what boulevard, or if it was even a light pole or not. But he sat there, drenched under the downpour, confiding on the frigid metal to carry his unstable limbs up. The bandana constricting the upper-half of his profile was now growing too tight, and he itched to merely rip it off his face and discard it as he would an empty cup of coffee. Alas, that would not be feasible under his condition, and he knew that all too well. 

Once his heart had ultimately caught up to his psyche, and his breathing was resting at a constant momentum, he trudged toward into another sprint down the unknown, forbidden street. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going, dumbass!” he heard someone slur as he blindly fled through the torrent, stumbling every now and then. He didn’t have time for an apology or to even turn his head around for all he could think of was not permitting his legs to give way. Just a little bit further, that’s all he had to go. 

That’s all he had to run to open the door of someone he hadn’t seen since he could see. 

So, despite being drenched through his shoes, and accumulating blisters from the cold, damp socks and his hair flinging water everywhere and gripping to his forehead, he hurried forward. He kept running and running, not reaching to a stop until he knew for certain he had arrived at his destination. 

And when that time came, he was clueless. He started to panic as he stood, bare and dripping, head to toe, with his fist raised to the neatly painted door that he couldn’t even see. 

𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦? 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦? 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘵-

Oikawa’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door pivoting open, and he felt a delightful fervor hit his face and torso from the interior of the building. 

“Tooru.”

It was a cold, vile voice, filled with disdain and disgust. It sent shivers down Oikawa’s core and gave him goosebumps, but he subsisted in his position, unwavering. 

“Hajime.”

“I told you not to show your face to me ever again.”

The utter cruelness of his tone made Oikawa’s soul throb, and he craved to reach out and hug Iwaizumi and cry and say he was so, so sorry. 

But he knew that wasn’t an option that was available right now, so he did what he came here to do in the first place. 

His right hand, which had dropped from the doorframe when it opened, made his way to his face, specifically the strip of cloth over his nose and under his forehead. He hesitantly grabbed it, his entire body violently shaking, and falteringly pried it away from its locked spot on his head. 

The only thing he could hear besides the rain was an excruciating gasp from the taller male in front of him. Oikawa smiled delicately but wistfully at the sound, acknowledging how Hajime must feel about the sight. 

He stood there with the black bandana in his hand, his pupils as white as can be, almost invisible. It seemed terrifying at first, but it was easy to get used to. Oikawa could see very well, but he could never walk around with white eyes plain as day. The things the people would say. Hence his adorned cloth that covered the nasty sight. 

Now, seeing Iwaizumi for the first time in five years, his face not one bit different than he remembered waking up to, his eyes welled up with tears. 

“I know,” he started, voice cracking and sounding almost unsure of itself, “I know I have no right to be here. I know the things I did to you. And what I did to those around you. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just want to hold your hand, Hajime. Just for a moment, like we used to when we woke up and I made you waffles and we’d stay up late in the night studying. Please, please. Let me hold you again.”

And he obliged. Oikawa was pulled into the house, dragged, practically, and brought into a tight embrace that made him feel like his back would break. He smiled a warm smile, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder, missing the feeling of the strong, calloused hands roaming his skin and holding him. 

“Hajime, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry.”

“No, there is,” Oikawa said, raising his hand for a moment, off of the others muscular back. “I really am sorry.”

He lifted his head to look Iwaizumi in the eyes, trying to see how deep he could fall into the view of them, like a frozen lake that cracks under your feet and pulls you under until you can’t tell which way is up or down. “I love you, Tooru,” he heard a whisper. 

The brunette smiled at the words, locking Iwaizumi’s lips in a soft but hungry kiss. Pulling him. Selling it to him. Distracting him. 

Oikawa pulled away from the other’s lips, grinning at the face he longed for since that day. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa said as he brought his hand back to Iwaizumi’s back, along with the tip of the knife’s blade. And he slashed the metal through him, right through his heart. Just like Iwaizumi had done to Oikawa.

“Yeah, I love you too, Hajime.”


End file.
